


Freezing Rain

by bri_ness



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Freezing rain, M/M, Panic Attacks, this was also supposed to be pure fluff and then it turned angsty its just my nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bri_ness/pseuds/bri_ness
Summary: At the twenty minute mark, Sexy Commuter checks his phone and says, “Oh, fuck. They’re pulling the buses off the road.”Isak lets out what Eskild calls his melodramatic sigh because, ok, his classes are almost definitely cancelled then, but he already got out of bed and went outside when he could’ve done neither of those things. He’s mourning the lost opportunity.But Sexy Commuter is eyeing him, either like he sees another opportunity or like Isak has jam on his cheeks from breakfast—again, it’s hard to actually see Sexy Commuter’s eyes, which is another reason for Isak to curse the freezing rain.“Do you have anywhere to be right now?”





	Freezing Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how much I'll write for the Evakteket Skamenger Hunt challenge, but I've been inspired this weekend! This one's for the prompt "winter rain."
> 
> Disclaimer: this is entirely based on the public transit system where I live, which I believe has less options and is less reliable than Norway's. So this is possibly very unrealistic, but 1. I needed to set-up the date, of course and 2. I'm very passionate about local bus etiquette fhjfd.

In one of the many ways Isak is different from everyone else, he enjoys his morning commute.

It’s time to himself, an escape from Eskild’s attempts to have heart-to-hearts with him over breakfast. His intention is always to study, but he usually puts on a podcast Jonas wants him to care about it and drifts off instead. It’s the best on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when Isak’s class schedule coincides with Sexy Commuter’s (as named by Magnus).

Beyond living up to his name, Sexy Commuter has everything Isak’s ever wanted in a man: he respects bus etiquette. Before he gets on the bus, he checks to ensure no one’s exiting through the front door. Since he gets off the bus before Isak does, he always gives Isak the inside seat. And, he always offers his seat to anyone with heavy bags or difficulty standing, though that one irritates Isak a bit even if it’s the right thing to do.

He’s also gotten the bus driver to wait for Isak when he was running to catch it (Eskild is not always easy to escape from). He’s let Isak stand under his umbrella in the rain. Last week, they spoke for the first time.

“No headphones today?” Sexy Commuter asked.

“No, forgot them at home,” Isak said with a groan that would suggest it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

Sexy Commuter offered him an earbud, filling Isak’s ears with Tupac, which convinced Isak was in love until the next song was by _Gabrielle._ He didn’t take the earbud out, though. He liked that they had a connection.

This morning, Isak’s not feeling as warm towards his morning commute, mainly because he’s fucking freezing. Since late last night, it’s been snowing, hailing, and raining, making a mess of the roads. As Isak waits for the bus, it’s the worst kind of freezing rain, stinging Isak’s cheeks like tiny shards of glass.

The bus is already fifteen minutes late. Sexy Commuter’s eyes are barely visible with his hood covering his forehead and jacket zipped up to his nose, but he’s exchanged a few glances with Isak that communicate: _this fucking sucks._ Isak, equally bundled up, does his best to return them.

At the twenty minute mark, Sexy Commuter checks his phone and says, “Oh, fuck. They’re pulling the buses off the road.”

Isak lets out what Eskild calls his _melodramatic sigh_ because, ok, his classes are almost definitely cancelled then, but he already got _out of bed_ and _went outside_ when he could’ve done neither of those things. He’s mourning the lost opportunity. 

But Sexy Commuter is eyeing him, either like he sees another opportunity or like Isak has jam on his cheeks from breakfast—again, it’s hard to actually _see_ Sexy Commuter’s eyes, which is another reason for Isak to curse the freezing rain.

“Do you have anywhere to be right now?” Sexy Commuter asks. “I mean, I know you do, but without the bus….”

“Uh, no?”

“I just figure, we usually spend the morning together.”

Isak does not want to assume he understands, so he says nothing at all.

“Do you want to grab a coffee? There’s a nice café across the street.”

Isak’s hesitant because it’s December, and that means all cafés have turned Hallmark movie sets. Christmas lights _,_ cups decorated with snowmen and Santa, acapella music about _the most wonderful time of the year_. It’s been enough to send Isak into a panic, which is not a side of himself he wants to reveal to Sexy Commuter. The last thing he needs is for his peaceful commute to turn into another thing for him to be anxious about.

But then again, this is his chance to actually talk to Sexy Commuter. And, he’s already outside.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Everything’s slippery, so they cross the street slowly, with Sexy Commuter making wild hand gestures to alert cars to their presence. Maybe not the most dignified, but Isak appreciates anyone who tries to keep him safe.

“I’m Even, by the way,” Sexy Commuter, _Even_ , says as they enter the café.

“Isak.”

“Isak, it is so nice to officially meet you.”

Isak’s glad Even chooses this moment to pull his hood down and unzip his jacket, because it allows Isak to see his smile.

Even orders for them, and when he insists on treating, Isak opts for a simple black coffee. “Oh come on,” Even says, rolling his eyes. “Get in the spirit, Isak! Eggnog latte? Peppermint mocha?”

“Peppermint mocha would be nice, I guess.”

“Then two large peppermint mochas, please,” Even tells the barista. “Extra whipped cream.”

It does look pretty spectacular once Isak sees it. They take their drinks to a corner table against the window, listening to the rain beat against the glass.

“I think it’s just raining now,” Isak says for something to say.

“Mm, that’s a shame. I like freezing rain.”

Isak feels betrayed: he always assumed that, given their same stance on bus etiquette, Sexy Commuter agreed with him on everything. And his expression must give it away, because Even quickly continues, “I mean, not when I’m waiting for a bus to get to work that ends up ghosting us. But in general, the cold, the sharpness of it…it’s like it forces you to feel whatever you need to.”

Even’s trying to be poetic, and maybe he’s trying to impress, but all Isak feels is a tightening in his chest, an alert from his body to get out, find safety. He’s researched panic attacks, he’s researched fucking everything, but he doesn’t want to label what he’s going through as that. And it’s not, exactly, he’s convinced himself it’s not because he knows he’s not having a heart attack, he can rationalize what’s happening—even if he also read that people experience panic attacks differently. He just can’t have them, because maybe then he’ll be like his mom, convinced the rapture’s happening because there was freezing rain on Christmas, insisting they spend the entire day alone in prayer. 

Isak gets up, leaves the café because his body’s screaming out, _just fucking get out._ He stands under the café’s overhang, holding himself, not realizing Even followed him until he hears his voice.

“What do you need right now?

Isak understands that Even understands what’s happening, and a for a moment, it calms him.

“Space? I can keep talking? Or I could touch you?”

Isak’s always appreciated those who try to keep him safe.

“Uh, I think touch is ok.”

“Ok.”

He’s expecting Even’s hand on his shoulder, or maybe even in his, but not for Even to pull him into a hug, so close that even if they were in the rain, Isak’s sure he wouldn’t be able to feel anything but Even’s warmth.

“Everything’s ok, yeah? We’re ok.”

Isak nods, backing out of Even’s embrace and remembering to be embarrassed. “Shit,” he says. “This has to be the worst first date ever.”

“Date?” Even repeats with a smirk.

Isak rolls his eyes. “Don’t play coy, it’s annoying. We’ve been public-transit-flirting for months.”

Even laughs. “And my friends said I was being too subtle, Cute Bus Boy.”

“ _Cute_? I gave you Sexy Commuter and you gave me _cute_?”

“Oh see, I wasn’t aware of that. I would’ve happily given you the same nickname, though now, I prefer Isak.”

Isak wants to smile, but he knows that, as kind as Even is, there’s no way he still likes him after this. “I should get home before it gets worse out,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you Thursday morning.” Though Isak’s already planning to take an unnecessarily early bus to avoid another interaction.

Even furrows his eyebrows. “Isak, given my stellar bus etiquette, I’d hoped you knew me better than that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you really think I’m going to leave you alone in the rain?” When Isak hesitates, Even takes his hand. “If you don’t want to spend any more time together today, let me at least walk you home. And then, maybe give me your number?”

“You’re serious.”

“No, I’m pulling the cruelest practical joke in the world. Yes, Isak, of course I’m serious. I think I could like you.”

It is not something anyone’s ever said to Isak before, but it is a nice idea. “Even though I freak out in the rain?”

“Everyone would if they’re left alone in it. You don’t have to be.”

Isak wonders if he may have found someone who will give him space to breathe, who will shelter him, who will offer him the peace of his morning commute.

Maybe, and maybe’s enough for today.

“Yeah, ok. Take me home.”


End file.
